H. W. L. Poonja

Biography

Early life

At the age of six, he spontaneously experienced a state of supreme consciousness:

The experience was so overwhelming it had effectively paralysed my ability to respond to any external stimuli. People tried everything they could think of to bring me back to a normal state of consciousness, but all their attempts failed.

His mother, an ardent devotee of Lord Krishna, persuaded her son, who had experienced this state of supreme consciousness, saying: "Did you see Krishna? If you see Krishna again, you will be able to experience this supreme state once more." From that time on, Poonjaji came to love Lord Krishna with great fervour, and Lord Krishna appeared before him many times. And they played together.

The Search for God

Poonjaji constantly sought to see Lord Krishna, and travelled throughout India visiting saints and sages, asking each of them: "Can you show me God?" However, the great saints would only reply: "It takes decades of spiritual practice before one can see God. Come and practise at our ashram."

Then one day, a sadhu appeared at our door, asking for food. I invited him in, offered him some food and asked him: "Can you show me God? If not, do you know of anyone who can?" Much to my surprise he told me: "Yes, I know a person who can show you God. His name is Ramana Maharshi." And he gave him the address.

Meeting Ramana Maharshi

Poonjaji visited Ramana Maharshi's ashram and asked him the same question as always. However, rather than giving him a vision of God, Ramana Maharshi directed his awareness toward his own Self:

"Have you seen God?" I asked. "If you have, can you enable me to see Him? I am willing to pay any price, even my life." "No," he answered, "I cannot show you God or enable you to see God because God is not an object that can be seen. God is the subject. He is the Seer. Don't concern yourself with objects that can be seen. Find out who the seer is." He also added, "You alone are God," as if to rebuke me for looking for a God who was outside and apart from me.

From that time on, Poonjaji found that the desire to think of God or to perform japa and other spiritual practices had completely vanished. He sought Ramana Maharshi's help once more.

I sat before Maharshi and began to speak.

"For twenty-five years I have been repeating the name of Krishna. Until recently I was chanting it fifty thousand times a day. I had also been reading many spiritual books. Then Rama, Sita, Lakshmana and Hanuman appeared before me. After they left, I found I could no longer continue my practices. I can no longer do japa, read books, or meditate. Inwardly it is very quiet, but the desire to direct my attention toward God has gone. I actually tried, but I simply cannot. My mind refuses to think of God. What is happening? What should I do?"

Maharshi looked at me and asked: "How did you come here from Madras?" "By train," I replied. "What did you do when you arrived at the station?"

"I got off the train and hired a bullock cart to take me to the ashram." "What happened to the bullock cart after you arrived at the ashram?" "It probably went back to town."

Maharshi explained his meaning.

"The train brought you to your destination. Since you no longer needed the train, you got off. It had carried you to where you wanted to go. Similarly, the bullock cart brought you to Ramana Ashram. Having arrived at the ashram, you no longer needed the bullock cart, so you got off. They were simply the means to get here. Now that you are here, you no longer need them.

Your japa is the same. Your japa, your reading, your meditation — they carried you to your spiritual destination. You no longer need them. It was not that you yourself stopped practising; rather, they had fulfilled their role and so departed from you. You have arrived."

Then he gazed at me intently. I could feel that my whole body and mind were being washed with waves of purity. They were being purified by his silent gaze. I could feel him looking intently into my Heart. Under that spellbinding gaze I felt every atom of my body being purified.

It was as if a new body was being created for me. A process of transformation was going on — the old body was dying, atom by atom, and a new body was being created in its place.

Then, suddenly, I understood. I knew that this man who had spoken to me was, in reality, what I already was, what I had always been. There was a sudden impact of recognition as I became aware of the Self. I use the word "recognition" deliberately, because as soon as the experience was revealed to me, I knew, unerringly, that this was the same state of peace and happiness that I had been immersed in as a six-year-old boy in Lahore.

The silent gaze of the Maharshi re-established me in that primal state. The desire to search for an external God perished in the direct knowledge and experience of the Self which the Maharshi revealed to me. I cannot describe exactly what the experience was or is because the books are right when they say that words cannot convey it. I can only talk about peripheral things. I can say that every cell, every atom in my body leapt to attention as they all recognised and experienced the Self that animated and supported them, but the experience itself I cannot describe. I knew that my spiritual quest had definitely ended, but the source of that knowledge will always remain indescribable.

— Nothing Ever Happened Volume One